ran to the kitchen window to see what on earth the noise had been.

Out of the window, beyond the hedge and in the middle of the barley field stuck a massive green metal tail fin stuck up, like the end of half a rocket.

‘What in heaven’s name is that?’ said Mrs Green, still shaking from the shock.

‘It’s a UXB!’ said Celia.

‘What’s that?’ said Megsie.

‘An unexploded bomb. We have them in London quite a lot. It could go off at any second.’

‘WHAT?’ screeched Vincent, who had rushed back into the kitchen and was standing behind them. Everyone jumped with fright.

‘But then again, it might not. Depends,’ said Celia, sounding impressively unruffled.

‘But they don’t drop bombs in the country!’ said Megsie. ‘It must be a mistake!’

From behind them came a voice barely recognisable as Phil’s, it was so hoarse and broken.

‘It’s not a mistake,’ he said. ‘It’s the sign!’

They all turned to look at him. He was standing with his back against the wall, staring out of a face like a grey mask.

‘What are you talking about, Phil?’ said Mrs Green, completely mystified.

‘They’re coming for me!’ said Phil, covering his face with his hands.

Mrs Green was just about to enquire further when another voice was heard outside, sounding somewhat amplified as it shouted, ‘Stop panicking!! Unexploded bomb is at hand!! Help has landed!!! Stop it!!!!’

In burst Mr Spolding, very pink in the cheeks and yelling through a loudhailer.

Phil rushed to him. ‘They’re going to kill me!!!’ he said.

‘Who’s going to kill you, Phil?’ said Mrs Green.

‘Stop all that panicking, I said!!!’ shouted Mr Spolding through the loudhailer.

‘I can’t stop it!’ said Phil. ‘I’m going to die!’

‘I’m going to get under the table,’ said Vincent.

‘I’m going to put the kettle on,’ said Mrs Green, deciding that the only thing for it was for everyone to have a cup of tea and calm down a bit.

‘Mine’s a milk and two sugars,’ yelled Mr Spolding through the loudhailer.

Phil got as close as he could to Mr Spolding. ‘Mr Spolding, you have to arrest me! You have to arrest me before they get here because it’s the only way I’ll be safe! You have to put me in official custody!’

‘In what?’ said Mr Spolding, looking confused and still speaking through the loudhailer.

Phil grabbed the hailer from him and shouted back at Mr Spolding, ‘Arrest me!’ Put me in a – what you called it – a fishy custard!’

Mr Spolding now grabbed the hailer and shouted back at Phil, ‘Arrest you for what? What for? What’ve you done? There’s got to be a crime!’

From the kitchen door came a voice everyone knew very well. It was Norman’s.

‘Try forgery!’ he said.

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The Diary 25

You can very easily freeze that moment in your heads, can’t you? Norman standing there looking very heroic, everyone staring up at him or down at him depending on who they are, and Mrs Green about to pour the tea. There.

Nice day! Nice weather! We are at Tilsey Farm at what we call the carousel field because it was where we shot the piglets flying around the tree (they weren’t really flying, of course, it was me and all the children’s mums and dads running around holding foam piglets and singing silly songs). There’s no loo paper in my trailer, so halfway through this morning I had a rather nasty moment in my corset and curls. That’s filming for you. Very little in the way of personal dignity is left by the end of a long shoot. Most people have seen you either cry, lose your temper, vomit, hit things for no reason, whinge – or in this case, seen your bottom, which is really the lowest point in my view. Rather unpleasant altogether, but there it is.

Our fabulous Mr Green is on set to do a flashback scene (he’s a bit of a secret so I’m saying nothing here about who it is) and being as gorgeous and funny and loving and great as Mr Green could ever be. All the females on set are trembling slightly. Bit like releasing a particularly genetically suitable bull into a herd of slightly somnolent cows. We’ve all woken up a bit and are milling about, mooing at each other and preening.

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August 1st: We’ve all just had two days off and are feeling rather chipper! Ralph Fiennes is in giving his Lord Gray (we sometimes say ‘give’ instead of ‘play’ – I don’t know why, it’s an acting term, I suppose). He is wonderful. Chilling and full